I have been reflecting back at where I was at this time last year. My sadness was palpable. I was worried about what would happen under the current administration. It is worse than I thought it would be. In today’s Monday Mayhem, I take a look back at my words.
I am broken, I am on fire. I am shriveled, I am revolutionary. I am devastated, triggered, charred, broken, silenced, shamed, saddened, heartbroken, shocked, disgusted, scared, horrified, traumatized.
I am desperately seeking solace in a world that has been torn apart. I look at every person on the street and want to ask them what part they played in electing a fascist tyrant to power.
I want to lash out kick, claw, beat, and rail on every single person who has betrayed my own freedoms. I was going to say that our forefathers would despise this bastardization of our democracy and then remembered they are as racist and sexist as our new leader.
I want to sit down with Hillary Clinton over a cup of tea and ask her to make me feel better. I want my leader to tell me what to do and yet I can’t get through her words without turning them off I am so devastated at this loss.
I want this anger to go away. It isn’t productive. It changes nothing. It just keeps me stuck. I want that fiery badass wise woman in me to rise from the ashes and do something big and radical and crazy. And yet, there she sits, waiting – wings wrapped around my body shrouding me from the sledgehammer of hate and total annihilation. I am fighting against the survivors guilt that is threatening to creep in – I can pass you know, I am white you know.
How do I inspire and lead and take up my banner when all I want to do is hang my head in abject disbelief that this nation chose fascism over prosperity. Despair over hope. Chose to believe lies over integrity.
People keep saying she wasn’t perfect but to me she was. She was human with flaws, just like me. She made bad choices and had to correct them, just like me. She made decisions based on the information she had at the time, just like me. She helped me believe that the time had come, that the nation was ready for a woman to fill the role I have wanted to fill since I was in kindergarten – to be the President of the United States of America.
And now we have a rapist and his prisoner in the White House – except not really because they are refusing to live there. We have people who can’t get security clearance because of their business dealings. We have voted for hate.
I originally posted this journal entry on my blog titled I am Angry at America.
Here is how it starts…
I feel myself slithering up from the depths of only grief looking slightly like Golum from the inside out.
A demonic sinister look in my eye promising to eviscerate your soul.
I am angry.
Ball busting violently angry.
I want to claw, gnash, tear out, slash and burn.
I want to beat and main and thrash and break and cut and filet your soul from the inside out.
I want to rip your heart from the middle of your body, hang you upside down and watch you drown on your own blood.
Visit the original post to see how it ends.
The good news is that I picked myself up.
The good news is that I have tapped into my passion.
The good news is that the programs I have created are contributing to the resistance and I am building an army.
THE GOOD NEWS IS…I am alive. And I am still marching America…heed the warning.
Cause some mayhem. Raise some hell.
Dr. Melissa Bird, PhD
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